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- a member for 18 years, 11 months and 27 days
- it's my b3ta birthday in 3 days
- has posted 4 messages on the main board
- has posted 5 messages on the talk board
- has posted 18 messages on the links board
- (including 1 links)
- has posted 72 stories and 13 replies on question of the week
- They liked 22 pictures, 28 links, 2 talk posts, and 58 qotw answers.
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» Kids
My journal entry from last July.
It has been two years since I last celebrated my birthday. In two days time, I turn 33. An age which really to me doesn't matter now. I think at some point turning 30 mattered. Turning closer to another box on a questionaire used to matter. I was asked the other day how old I would be, and I had no idea...It surprised me to think I was that old.
A year ago, I refused to celebrate my birthday. It was one of the worst periods of my life. My wife was pregnant, and had hyperemesis, a condition where morning sickness was extreme, to the point of continual sickness, de-hydration and stays at hospital. It's hard to be happy for a birthday when your wife, partner and soulmate is busy to keep water down, giving life to something deep inside.
Pregnancy should be a time of happiness, and joy and all I remember at that time, whilst I was driving back home to an empty house after holding hair back and being in that hospital, around that 'smell' was "I want my wife back". After weeks of seeing her in that much pain, and all that suffering, all I thought was about how much I missed her. I didn't care about the pregnancy, I wanted my wife back.
In February when Edie was born, though we didn't know what sex she was at this point, she didn't breathe for two minutes. Two minutes. It doesn't sound a long time. It takes more time to boil an egg. You can travel a mile at 30mph. 1605 metres. Think about it, start two minutes and count 120 seconds. When your baby doesn't breathe for two minutes that is the longest period of your life. Those two minutes were all of the years which I might not have, the times I might not have, not even knowing the sex, what sort of life I would be having with them. All I knew then was all the time leading up to the birth I wasn't Dad or father. I was playing pretend about how I thought I should be feeling. The moment I realised that I might not be Dad was the moment I felt like Dad.
In less than a year, it went from wanting nothing more than my wife back to wanting to hear just one cry from Edie. And it came, quietly and tentatively.
And in two days I celebrate my birthday, with my wife and soulmate. And a little girl whose cry I hear every day.
Though now it's with a little more gusto.
(Thu 17th Apr 2008, 18:55, More)
My journal entry from last July.
It has been two years since I last celebrated my birthday. In two days time, I turn 33. An age which really to me doesn't matter now. I think at some point turning 30 mattered. Turning closer to another box on a questionaire used to matter. I was asked the other day how old I would be, and I had no idea...It surprised me to think I was that old.
A year ago, I refused to celebrate my birthday. It was one of the worst periods of my life. My wife was pregnant, and had hyperemesis, a condition where morning sickness was extreme, to the point of continual sickness, de-hydration and stays at hospital. It's hard to be happy for a birthday when your wife, partner and soulmate is busy to keep water down, giving life to something deep inside.
Pregnancy should be a time of happiness, and joy and all I remember at that time, whilst I was driving back home to an empty house after holding hair back and being in that hospital, around that 'smell' was "I want my wife back". After weeks of seeing her in that much pain, and all that suffering, all I thought was about how much I missed her. I didn't care about the pregnancy, I wanted my wife back.
In February when Edie was born, though we didn't know what sex she was at this point, she didn't breathe for two minutes. Two minutes. It doesn't sound a long time. It takes more time to boil an egg. You can travel a mile at 30mph. 1605 metres. Think about it, start two minutes and count 120 seconds. When your baby doesn't breathe for two minutes that is the longest period of your life. Those two minutes were all of the years which I might not have, the times I might not have, not even knowing the sex, what sort of life I would be having with them. All I knew then was all the time leading up to the birth I wasn't Dad or father. I was playing pretend about how I thought I should be feeling. The moment I realised that I might not be Dad was the moment I felt like Dad.
In less than a year, it went from wanting nothing more than my wife back to wanting to hear just one cry from Edie. And it came, quietly and tentatively.
And in two days I celebrate my birthday, with my wife and soulmate. And a little girl whose cry I hear every day.
Though now it's with a little more gusto.
(Thu 17th Apr 2008, 18:55, More)
» Too much information
"I used to fuck your mother to this song on that couch you're sitting on"...
Oh dear.
(Thu 6th Sep 2007, 14:04, More)
"I used to fuck your mother to this song on that couch you're sitting on"...
Oh dear.
(Thu 6th Sep 2007, 14:04, More)
» Sleepwalking
Sleep talking blame.
"OI" my wife shouted at me when I wrapped the duvet around me in my sleep leaving her with nothing.
"It wasn't me" I said "It was Jason Bourne".
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 18:08, More)
Sleep talking blame.
"OI" my wife shouted at me when I wrapped the duvet around me in my sleep leaving her with nothing.
"It wasn't me" I said "It was Jason Bourne".
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 18:08, More)
» My sex misconceptions
Misconception...
I knew that the male g-spot was situated in the arse.
I figured that the females was also.
I found out two things the night I shoved my finger up my first girlfriends arse whilst she was riding me:
One - The female g-spot is not up her arse.
Two - Have the decency to tell a girl, or at least warn her before you insert an unlubricated finger as she is about to orgasm.
(Thu 25th Sep 2008, 23:22, More)
Misconception...
I knew that the male g-spot was situated in the arse.
I figured that the females was also.
I found out two things the night I shoved my finger up my first girlfriends arse whilst she was riding me:
One - The female g-spot is not up her arse.
Two - Have the decency to tell a girl, or at least warn her before you insert an unlubricated finger as she is about to orgasm.
(Thu 25th Sep 2008, 23:22, More)